


If Home Was the Small of Her Back

by Holladay Street (street)



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: ...and the way Emily jerked away at the end, F/F, Infidelity, THAT back pat..., questionable decision making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/street/pseuds/Holladay%20Street
Summary: She wasn’t sure what the fuck she was doing, honestly. Her girlfriend was in the stands tonight. But Sonny was right here - the heat of her skin through the flimsy fabric, and that odd patchy flush of exertion slashed across her cheeks, so dear and so vulnerable and so oddly distant. And Kelley couldn’t stop herself - couldn't help but touch.
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett, Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett/Lindsey Horan, Kelley O’Hara/Other, Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	If Home Was the Small of Her Back

**Author's Note:**

> I completely melted watching [that back pat](https://run-of-play.tumblr.com/post/190655200979) at the half of the US v Costa Rica game yesterday. But on re-watching it today my fic-instigator-extraordinaire BeaSwann and I thought that Sonnett's body language was oddly tense towards the end. And so, a story was born.
> 
> This is absolutely a oneshot - perhaps barely that. I thumb-typed most of it a frenzy between meetings and while line for lunch, and and in the office elevator. It's rough structure-wise, and also rough content-wise; TW for fucked up decision-making, cheating, lack of communication, and unclear boundaries.

It might have been an accident that Lindsey and Emily were making out the night before the game in Lindsey and KO’s room, around the time Kelley keyed open the door. And it was definitely an accident that she interrupted them. Whether it was an accident that she joined in - that could have been up for debate. It wasn't like she and Sonny hadn’t hooked up before Kelley’s girlfriend came on the scene. Surely there was a free pass for threeways though - those were nothing like the emotional gravity of two people making love. 

So maybe Lindsey got up early and Kelley woke to Emily’s hair against her face, and Emily making these soft needy little noises and tilting her ass back against Kelley's hips. And before Kelley could even really process the steps from A to B to Oh God How Did We Get Here, it was almost breakfast time and Emily's kisses were just how she remembered, and Kelley's fingers were so deep in that she could feel Emily tensing from the inside - that extra trembly little bit right as she got loud, right as she grabbed Kelley's ass, right before the orgasm hit and left her gasping.

So maybe Emily avoided her at breakfast once they finally got up. And when she pulled Emily into a corner between the locker room and the showers, running her hands under that ridiculous huge coat and tilting in for a kiss, Emily pulled away murmuring “We can’t. We shouldn't. Your girlfriend . . isn’t she here today?” and Kelley felt her stomach drop.

She wasn’t sure _what_ the fuck she was doing, honestly. Her girlfriend was in the stands tonight. Their conversation that afternoon had been stilted, the distance between two hotel rooms in the same city feeling much larger than it was - and that had felt like a relief to Kelley for reasons she couldn’t, _could not,_ afford to think about.

But Sonny was _here_ at the half. The heat of her skin through the flimsy fabric, and that patchy flush of exertion slashed across her cheeks, so dear and so vulnerable and so oddly distant. And Kelley couldn’t stop herself - couldn't help but touch. She wanted to leave her hand in the small of Emily's back, wanted Emily to lean into it like the two of them were something real, instead Emily tensed and shied away. She wanted to draw Emily close - even though she couldn't, not out here in public, on television, on the field and in front of her girlfriend. She wanted that worried, striving face gazing up from between her legs - wanted Emily on her knees in the shower, wincing a little as Kelley twisted her fingers just _that much_ too tight through her wet hair. And that - good god, this probably made her an awful person - _that,_ she knew she could have.

She knew that acting on it like they had last night made her - what - weak willed? selfish? greedy? Made her the target of that shower of condemnations she'd heard, growing up, whenever a neighbor’s husband strayed.

The right-back side felt almost hot with Sonny’s presence - like the ghost of body heat in a bed. Kelley was so absorbed in the whole mess of it, she took a minutes after subbing in to really find her focus (and Kelley _always_ had her focus on the field). She let herself laugh as she fumbled the ball and reeled over the white line, let the hysteria bubble up masked as hilarity, gave herself and the crowd a beat to enjoy the oddity of it all, before she honed in. She couldn't afford any more mistakes. Kelley knew that tonight was it. Fuck her career minutes, fuck her case of medals, this was a new Olympics - her last Olympics - on the line. She couldn’t afford to lose focus - couldn’t afford to lose ANY of her chances tonight. Not under a new coach. Not on this tenuous goddamn ankle. Not with her girlfriend watching. And not with Sonny and Pinoe and Tobin making magic on the left flank.

On the bus back to the hotel she watched Sonny’s hand clench and relax rhythmically. She knew Lindsey would be stroking her other one. She wanted to take Sonny’s free hand and somehow solve, with just that touch, every single thing she was fucking up right now. And she wanted to pull Sonny’s other hand from Lindsey’s - have Emily all to herself, have something real there even though she already _had_ real, even though this whole thing might be the most inappropriate thing she'd ever done. Some internal voice that sounded a lot like her mother muttered that having Emily was the last thing Kelley deserved right now. So Kelley kept her hands to herself, watching Emily's hand clench and relax - a metronome.

But then she “accidentally” ended up interrupting again - hungry, desperate, inarticulate sounds from Emily hitting her as soon as she closed the door. She let Sonny’s unsure gaze push her away and onto the empty bed, and Sonny closed her eyes and let her thighs fall further open under Lindsay's hands, threaded her fingers through Lindsey's hair and rode it out.

That disapproving voice that sounded like her mother was still muttering in Kelley's head after Lindsey finished, when Lindsey raised her eyebrows and gestured her over into their bed. The voice got loud as Emily turned and reached for her - eager and suddenly perky and ready to go again - and she caught a split-second of surprise and hurt on Lindsey’s face. She tried to quieted the voice and avoid what she saw from Lindsey too, burying herself against Emily’s chest. She found a nipple and raked it hard with her teeth until Emily groaned. After a minute Lindsey's arms came around her - sandwiching the three of them tight together.

The disapproving voice was still there when her phone started vibrating on the nightstand (and there was only one person who would call her this late - who had traveled all the way down from DC go see her play, whose bed she _should_ be in right now). And she closed her eyes as Emily eased a third finger in, knowing, as she felt her orgasm start to crest, just how badly she had fucked up - was fucking up at this very second. “Please? Please, Em . . . more?” was all she could grind out. And then she was gone - some mix of guilt and confusion and want pushing her higher than she’d ever gone in that neat bed in the neat condo in DC.


End file.
